“Where have you been?” Gallo asked gently. Whatever had happened, it had shaken this stern little woman to the core.
“I landed in a fish market, of all places. And a man called Cassian took me to the tea temple. Oh, Gallo, it’s awful out there. This city is so strange and cruel, and in the centre of it sits this…this…cult that Sophia has somehow propagated. And it’s terrible!”
“Have you any idea where Sophia might be?” Hope brimmed in Gallo’s voice.
Millicent shook her head. “Apart from an enormous statue of her, there was no sign. I was hoping she’d be at the temple, but it’s too well established. It’s as if Sophia were here years and years ago when the tea religion was new. Now it’s no more than a church of corruption and decadence, and the average Roman citizen hates it.”
“You mean Sophia’s been here before?” Gallo frowned at this. She found all this travelling through time hard to keep up with no matter how much Sangfroid explained it. And she was rubbish at explaining anything, anyway. If it wasn’t a gun or a military action, Sangfroid didn’t give a dung beetle’s fart about it.
“I don’t think Sophia is here now,” Millicent said. “She was in the time machine a little bit longer than we were. It may have seemed like a fraction of a second to us, but Lord knows what it means in timeline orientation. There could be hundreds of years difference in where we landed.”
“It’s like me being only a few steps ahead of you on the Amoebas and ending up in the coal cellar. Look where I landed this time,” Gallo said bitterly. “Will we ever find her, do you think?” She had to ask, though she knew the odds were grim.
Millicent shook her head. “I have no idea. What about Sangfroid?”
“Not a sniff.” They slumped before the fire, stared dully into the flames and leaned into each other for comfort.
“Is this another messenger?” Alkaia appeared at Gallo’s side, looking intently at Millicent.
“Well, she’s brought no good news,” Gallo said. “So I’m not sure.”
“Do you worship Looselea?” Alkaia asked Millicent directly. “You said you were at the tea temple.”
“I certainly do not.” Millicent was adamant. “I’ve never seen such a crowd of ne’er-do-well reprobates in all my life. They are corrupt, and offensive, and cruel. They may as well worship rats for the way they get on.”
“That’s religion for you,” Alkaia said.
“Well, holy rats or not, there is obviously some divine plan in place for you both to turn up here,” Toxis said.
Gallo and Millicent swapped glances. If there was a divine plan in place, they were the last to know.
CHAPTER 22
“It’s dawn.” Hipp rose from her crouch by the dead fire.
“How do you know?” Millicent asked. The unrelenting gloom gave her no indication as to what time of day it was. She was exhausted; unable to sleep even a wink though those around her, including Gallo, had somehow managed to doze off. She now watched enviously as her companions stood and stretched and looked keen to face the new day.
“I can hear a different pattern to the way the guards are working,” Hipp said. “Also, our firewood and food have run out. I’d say that’s the end of the hospitality. Time to earn our keep.”
“What do you think will happen?” Millicent asked Gallo in a low voice.
“No idea.” She shrugged. “These guys are Amazons. They’re here for Severus Ex’s games, so I guess we go to the arena at some point and fight.”
“Severus Ex?” Millicent asked.
“He’s the current Emperor, and to my recollection, he’s a right bastard.”
“Oh.” She did not know the name Severus Ex from the list of Roman Emperors she’d had to memorize as a schoolgirl.
“Sorry for cursing,” Gallo said, and her sudden gallantry surprised Millicent. “I know you hate B words, but he is an Alpha bastard. And it won’t be long until you agree…even if you don’t say it like I do.”
“I am sure I will come up with something appropriate,” she said. “Gallo, will we be out there with…with the animals?” She remembered Kronos’s bet and desperately hoped Gallo would say something good, something to hold onto, that would inspire hope.
“Hell, yeah.” Gallo cracked her knuckles and grinned. “But we’ll have weapons, and if you stick by me, we might even stand a chance.”
“We will fight with valour and die with honour.” Alkaia joined them, offering a flask of water. “It’s a win-win.”
Millicent failed to see the first win, nevermind the second.
“If you say so, but I’m not very good at fighting,” she said, though didn’t add she’d been rather good at dying recently. All her attempts at rescuing Sangfroid had ended in death. How would this adventure end? Hubert had always been waiting at home for her on the other end of the time machine, reeling her in back in. He had literally been her lifeline. This time, there was no one to bring them back. They could all die here and that would be that. Hopelessness washed over her. She sank down beside the fire pit and stared at the ashes while her cellmates chatted amiably around her. A mid-morning meal of bread and water was finally delivered.
“When do we go in?” Alkaia asked one of the guards.
“You’re keen.” The guard sneered through his brown teeth. “You’ll go in after the Bull men. They’re on with the charioteers. Better be a good match. It’s been a slow morning, and the crowd’s bored.”
“Has the Emperor arrived yet?” Toxis asked.
“Nah, probably not out of bed yet. He never arrives until after noon anyway.”
“All these warriors came to fight as tribute, and he’s not even here?” Alkaia was outraged.
The guard shrugged. “People tell ’im who was good and who was shit. He’s only interested in the animal fights anyways. More fun.”
“And we’re with the animals?” Alkaia asked.
Another shrug. “Kronos decides that. But he put a bundle down on that one,” he pointed at Millicent, “having her face eaten off, so I reckon you’ll be with the beasts, and good luck to you.” He sauntered off, whistling chirpily while they digested this news.
“Yes!” Hipp punched the air. “We got the beasts!”
“And Severus Ex will be there to see us fight.” Toxis and Alkaia slapped each other on the back in congratulations.
“And why is this good?” Millicent turned to find Gallo doing a gleeful little jig behind her.
“It’s what they came here for.” Gallo indicated the Amazons. “I’m happy for them. But you know what would be good,” she said. “What would be really good? Is if we could get a counter bet that Millicent keeps her face. We could easily swing the odds by protecting her.” She slipped Millicent a sly wink.
The Amazons stilled their back slapping and listened. The smell of a wager caught their attention.
“We could come away rich.” Gallo drove home her point. “Of course, it would only work if we were alive, as well as honourable.”
“I like your thinking,” Alkaia said. “I’d love to beat these Roman turds at their own game. Especially if Kronos lost the butt-wipe toga off his back.”
“I like it, too,” Millicent said. “The keeping-my-face-on part in particular, but how do we wager? I mean do we even have any money to invest?”
“Amazon’s always have money,” Hipp said happily. “We’re great traders.” She jingled a little pouch hanging discreetly from her belt. Millicent noticed that all the Amazons had them.
“Great gamblers more like.” Gallo snorted. “The Amazon nation was renowned for gambling,” she informed Millicent, who struggled not to look disapproving.
“It comes from living on the edge of extinction,” Alkaia said. “We don’t call it gambling; that sounds like we’re reckless. We call it trading in odds. And this is a good trade, especially as we are in control of the
odds.”
“I’ve got no denarii,” Gallo said sadly, “and neither has Millicent, or I’d be in there with you.”
“We’ve got my face,” Millicent spoke up. “Gallo and I put my face into the pot. You can’t win if I run face first at a lion.”
“True, but unlikely. Look, as its Gallo’s idea, and your face, we’ll cut you in on a share. One share split between the two of you.” Alkaia cut the deal, and Gallo and Millicent agreed.
“Your face is safe with us.” Hipp slapped Millicent on the shoulder and unbalanced her. “Even if you do die we guarantee you’ll be a pretty corpse.”
“She won’t die. I won’t let her. Now, how do we place the bet?” Gallo asked. “I wouldn’t trust that guard as far as I could gob.”
“In the Belly?” Alkaia said. “The bookie always comes to you. Guard!” she yelled, and slammed the bars until they rang.
“Yeah?” The eager, stained smile was back at the cell door. The guard was obviously fascinated by the Amazons.
“Get me a bookie. The one Kronos uses,” Alkaia ordered. The guard’s eyes gleamed and without hesitation he disappeared down the corridor.
“Can you hear that?” Toxis hushed them all. They stood silently and strained their ears. A rumbling permeated the depths of the dungeon. Then a soft series of crashes and a distinct roar of a thousand voices, though it was muted and sounded far off.
“Sounds like the Bull men are pleasing the crowd,” Hipp said, matter of fact.
“Nobody likes the charioteers. It’s like cheating having them in there.” Toxis grumbled.
“Yes?” A polished voice called from the corridor. A strange man stood by the cell bars. He contrasted greatly with his surroundings in that he was clean. “You asked for me?” he said impatiently.
“We want to place a bet,” Alkaia said. She went over to the bars. She towered over the man so that he nervously stepped back, though not without checking where he placed his foot first.
“I am Maximum.” He cleared his throat and got down to business. “What can I do for you?”
Alkaia jingled her coin pouch, and Maximum leaned a little closer. “I hear Kronos put a big bet on with you earlier,” she said.
“The tea maiden being eaten? Yes. It’s an obvious hedged bet as he is the games master, but the populous have responded well. Though those not in the know favour disembowelment, so the odds are lively.” He sniffed in satisfaction. “Nobody likes the tea. It’s good morale for the people to see an urn savaged to death once in a while. I’m hoping it becomes a regular event.”
“Oh, well, if it’s good for morale…” Millicent muttered.
“Well, this purse says she won’t be eaten.” Alkaia jingled it again. The other Amazons jingled theirs. Maximum bristled with excitement.
“And as it’s for the people…well…” Millicent continued to mutter.
“Shush.” Gallo nudged her.
“Great Jupiter, is that her?” Maximum zoned in on Millicent. “Are you sure about this? She looks like fodder to me. I thought she would be bigger.”
“Well, excuse me, but I happen to be the average height for an Englishwoman.” Millicent prepared to launch a castigation when Gallo stilled her with a stern glance.
“Odds?” Alkaia growled, and the threat in her voice focused Maximum back on business. The odds were set and agreed, and the coin purses were handed over in exchange for a scrap of betting papyrus. Alkaia thrust the marker down her breastplate.
Maximum left quickly, weighing a lot more than when he’d arrived and looking very pleased. Another roar drifted down from the arena, louder, and more bloodthirsty.
“Sounds like the Bull men and charioteers are almost done,” Toxis said. “Wonder if we’re next?”
The answer came quickly. Kronos appeared and squinted through the bars.
“Ready, girls?” he asked. He lifted a heavy ring of keys from his belt and unlocked the door. His guards hovered behind him, waiting to escort the Amazons to the arena. Kronos nodded and a pile of heavy chains was thrown onto the cell floor. “Your game is dead weight,” he said in a flat voice.
“Dead weight. Against beasts?” Alkaia spat on the floor. “You cheating filth.”
The Amazons began to crowd Kronos forcing him out into the corridor where his guards anxiously readied their spears. He looked rattled and angry and pointed to the chains.
“You can put ’em on and fight, or you can die down here like cowards. Not much of a tribute that, ’eh? Severus won’t be too pleased, now will he?”
“Dead weight is useless sport against animals. It’s better to fight them freely, face to face,” Toxis objected. “Every harpy’s hole knows that.”
“Should’ve thought about that before betting against me, then, ’eh?” Kronos sneered. “Think I wouldn’t know what’s going on in me own jail? Sort it out. I’ll be back.” And he slammed the door shut.
“What’s dead weight?” Millicent asked Gallo.
“I have no idea.” She shook her head and looked over at the irate Amazons.
“It’s when two fighters are chained together by the ankle,” Hipp answered. “It’s called dead weight ’cos if one of you gets wounded or killed the other is stuck dragging a dead weight around the arena. Sort of shortens your life expectancy a little. And it’s crap against beasts ’cos it curtails movement. No leaps, no somersaults, no back flips, or climbing. It’s crap! Just crap!” She was shaking with anger. It was a terrible insult for a warrior to die in chains.
“Kronos is a sticky bastard. He’s pushing the odds in his favour.” Toxis toed the chains. “What are we going to do?” she asked Alkaia.
“We work the odds, like always,” she answered. “Gallo, you’re with Millicent. All you need do is guard her. The rest of you, tether up and keep these two away from anything pointy, and that means weapons as well as teeth. I reckon there’ll be more than beasts in with us. Kronos is a sore loser. He’ll try and cheat us any way he can.”
They paired up and locked the manacles around their ankles. The guards reappeared wheezing under the bundles of Amazon weapons they carried. Kronos was noticeably absent this time.
“I’d have stuck this up his arse, and he knows it,” Toxis hissed, as she examined her sword blade lovingly. “I missed you, baby,” she said and kissed it.
“They’ve had these all night. Check nothing is damaged or blunted,” Alkaia ordered her warriors. The Amazon weapons were a mixture of short swords, spears, and their famous labrys axes.
“We’re not allowed bows,” Hipp said sadly. “They took all our weapons away when we arrived, but at least we can fight with our own gear and not their crappy junk.” She ran her thumb along a blade and smiled in satisfaction at the beads of blood forming on her flesh.
Gallo snapped the cold iron manacle around Millicent’s ankle. It weighed a ton, she had no idea how she could walk in it, nevermind run. And she intended to do a lot of that.
“Here.” Gallo handed her a trident. “Just poke at anything you don’t like the look of.” She selected a sword for herself and looked at it admiringly. “Nice workmanship. I’m glad you brought extras,” she told Alkaia and got an approving smile in return.
“This way.” The guard swung open the door.
They clanked along the slow rise of corridors from the lower cellblocks to the arena’s main passageway. Each step brought the cries of the crowd and the thumping of their feet on the stadium floor closer. The gloom began to lighten, and the smoke from the oil lanterns drifted higher on fresh currents of air.
“How did the Bull men do? Was Severus Ex impressed?” Hipp asked.
“He’s still not here,” the guard grumbled. They finally converged out of the gloom and into a wide, clean tunnel that had daylight pouring in from one end. The roar of the crowd was deafening. At the end of the tunnel massive wooden doors stood shut ag
ainst the noise and the glare of sunlight. The arena was on the other side. Millicent’s heart thumped so hard her breastbone hurt.
The doors creaked open, and blinding sunlight shot down the passageway. Dust billowed in on a hot wind, and the incessant din of the crowd rolled like thunder along the tunnel walls. Guards herded in the dregs of the previous match, while slaves hauled in several steam driven chariots. These machines were no more than huge bronze boxes with a vicious array of blades and scythes protruding from all sides. They were horseless, manoeuvred by steam, and they had been wholly battered. A few still had wheels in working order, though several had their wheels missing and had to be manhandled into the tunnel. They were weighty things and ploughed furrows in the dirt floor. Each chariot burped sad, irregular puffs of steam from small funnels. Their side panels, which once were elaborately embossed in bronze, now had great lumps of decoration torn off or bent into odd angles. Rivets had popped and seams burst open. Despite their weight they looked like toys tossed around by ill-tempered children.
Millicent was alarmed to see blood flowing freely through the open seams. She realized these were not automated chariots; men were inside to drive the machines that now served as their coffins.
Behind this limping procession came three huge men. They had the skins of black bulls draped over their shoulders like cloaks. The bull’s head, horns still intact perched over their foreheads. These are the Bull men. Millicent had as good as expected Minotaurs, and her blood ran cold remembering Kronos’s threat to throw her to them last night. They looked savage. Blood and sweat ran down their bare chests. As they drew level with the Amazons they gave each other curt nods of respect. No words were spoken. These were warrior races brought here on a madman’s bidding, killing at his whim.
Bringing up the rear, and dragged through the sand by their heels, came the dead. Several of the Bull men, and two of the charioteers who had been prized out from their mechanical shells and slaughtered. These bodies were badly broken, limbs falling unnaturally, and skin split and burned by blasts of steam.
Millicent turned away. Every time she left her own timeline, she arrived in someone else’s hell. On the Amoebas, she had seen such carnage that her legs became numb and heavy and her head swam nauseatingly. It was the same here. Her sweaty grasp became slick on the iron of her trident.
The Tea Machine Page 22